


Touch-Tone Telephone

by SL1M3RZ



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Comment if you want me to continue I guess, Conspiracy Theories, Definately a OOC Soundwave, Even though its hardly part of the story kinda, Minor Character Death, Near Death, partial songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SL1M3RZ/pseuds/SL1M3RZ
Summary: This Fanfic is based on the song Touch-Tone Telephone by Lemon DemonTakes place a few weeks after Darkness Rising: Part 5You're a conspiracy theorist in Jasper, Nevada. A conspiracy theorist about what? Giant metal robots invading Earth, of course. Every day on the dot you call one of your local AM stations and ramble about these, which normally end up with you kicked off or running out of time. Of course, you don't mind. The cycle continues, but you're getting damn tired of how your proof online keeps getting replaced with gifs of monkeys dancing.When word rises of how a secured place gets broken in, you're desperate enough for getting solid evidence that you go there. Little do you know that someone else is there to wrap up loose ends.





	1. Chapter 1

You were just getting finished calling your favorite AM station, and getting hung up on said radio station, when you reclined in your chair. You glared at the computer screen in the cliche room of turned off lights, conspiracy posters and other things. To say you were an enthusiast was the understatement of the century.

But you didn’t believe in dumbass shit. Not the stupid ‘flat earth’ the current coot was spouting on the station, but the creatures you have photos of. Speaking of photos, that was the very reason you were glaring at the heap of junk for a computer.

That reason? Your god-damn evidence being turned into a gif of a tap dancing monkey. You were sick and tired of it. If photos didn’t deter the government or whatever troll was doing this, you were going to go in and get a video. Or any sort of evidence you could get your hands on. You’d be praised a savior of the world for alerting everyone to the threat of metal robot creature things invading the Earth as you speak!

With a determined huff, you stood up, dramatically shoving your chair behind you as you shut off your computer. You took the USB out of the drive and shoved it into your pocket. Turning, you go to the bulky backpack you sat on the floor and pick it up. Yet when you walked out of the room and to the front door, you paused.

Turning to your right, you stared at the metal bat with a rubber grip sitting against the wall. You got it since it was for sale and you wouldn’t lie to yourself on the fact you might be a little bit paranoid for intruders trying to steal your valuable evidence. Said evidence being all in your backpack, and the camera you were holding. No way you were leaving it here by itself.

Now, here you were, riding out to the nearest place you can park to the locked-up place that was likely still teeming with whatever went down. You glance at the bat, unsure of what you’d even use it for besides look stupid. You drum your fingers to the song playing. It wasn’t your favorite, but you’d be damned if you didn’t know a good jam when you heard it.

_I think it’s about time for you to know the awful truth_  
_The truth about me, and the truth about you_  
_‘Cause you’re a brand new species_  
_Big cat, space Nazis, Robert Stack_  
_God damnit, gonna snap, Leonard Nimroy_  
_Call me back [Call me back]_

Afterall, it was relatable. Not.. the new species part, but the conspiracy. And how the AM radio you listen to every day would never listen to you. You just wanted to be listened to, for your warnings and evidence to be acknowledged.  
Then you realized you were procrastinating.

_I try to call you everyday_  
_I’m rehearsing what to say when the truth comes out [of my very own mouth]_  
_I’ve been working on a unified theory_  
_If I can make it through tonight, everybody’s gonna hear me out_  
_‘Cause I’m the right one_  
_On my touch-tone, touch-tone telephone_  
_I’m the only one_  
_On your A.M., A.M. radio_

Staring at the empty-seeming building in the distance, you get out with the bat in your hand. Sure, you looked sketchy as hell, but you always had the excuse of trying to find somewhere to play baseball with yourself. Hey, you even brought a ball to be safe.  
Well, it’d be fool-proof if it was a _baseball_ , you only had tennis balls on hand.

So, as you took a wide path to avoid the entrance, [you saw guards when you drove by, or thought you did, you were going the speed-limit of 55 and it was pretty dark out with the half-moon] you look slowly around. Too bad both hands were filled, one holding a metal bat while the other had a camera. It’s red recording light blinking steadily.

You also realized that you were sweating despite the desert’s chill, and as if to mock you, a breeze made you shiver despite your perspiration. Giving another worried look, you made your way to the fence that was barb wired at the top. Noticing no guards, you sat your bag down and hesitated. If you went through with this, there was no going back. 

Taking out the wire cutters [you sat down your camera and bat] you bit your lip as you positioned the tool.  
Yep, no going back. Go big or go home you suppose.  
Oh way, you can’t go home because you might end up in prison or something worse. Either way, you were booted out of your family and already a laughing stock, even more than those other theorists! 

So you began to work. To your surprise, and disheartenment, it was more work than you thought to get in. Chucking the wire cutters back in your back, shrugging it on, and taking your camera and bat once more, you waltz on it. In fact, all the way into the building itself.  
Now your skin was really crawling, no one had caught you. In fact, shouldn’t guards be patrolling? 

You walk further in before you pause. You heard something. Not just a mechanical whirring of computer fans.  
But a louder, droning motor like noise. Despite your paranoid fear, your face split into a grin as you switch the camera for your more dominant hand. Your hand needed to be steady and you were okay… ish with your left. Who know you were going to get this really on camera!

As you turn into the largest room [seeing as it was actually very big] you saw _it_. It was a deep blue with more subtle spots that were glowing purple. It’s flat yet thin [like so thin it should be impossible] fingers helped to hold it up where it crouched. A mildly broad chest leading down to a thin waist, thinner hips, with legs that were, comparatively, wider. It had its back against you as you raised your camera, slowly getting footage.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you watched in wonder. Slowly, every so slowly, you take a few steps forward. A thought of triumph rising in your chest as you thought of how everyone will believe you! You’d have friends you can actually walk around and chat with and not fear giant robot alien overlords taking over and-

Smack.

You freeze. Looking down, bile rose in your throat as you saw you stepped in a puddle of red. Turning your head, you saw the face. It was.. actually familiar. Familiar as in you saw it on the sites and forums you plagued. The man who actually got walloped upside the head by the robot and of how no one took him seriously either. Oh god. You knew these things were trouble! Why did you even think of-

Your head snapped up as the motor-like noise turned to a bit of a slow ‘zzz’ noise.  
It was looking at you. A face of some foreign language zipping to pure black as two cables from its chest tugged out of the massive unit before it.  
Oh yeah, you were going to be as dead as the man next to you. At least your camera would film your untimely demise to a giant alien that was no doubt going to take over the planet.

Just as slowly, it tilted its head. The song from earlier popped into your mind, interrupting your thoughts of your demise. Instead, you think of how this thing is planning how to kill you instead.

_Oh, I’m crying now, authentic tears_  
_They flow out of me when I think about you_  
_‘Cause you’re the only person in the world who’d understand_  
_‘Cause you’re the only person in the world who’d understand the meaning of this_  
_Oh My God_  
_I try and I try and I try to make you listen to me_

It snapped in your head as you remembered how no one seemed to be there.  
Cause this fucker killed them.  
Your instincts roared for you to run, so you did. Chucking the baseball bat at the robot alien before you ran as fast as you could towards the exit. As you made a sharp left, you nearly fell due to wet blood on your shoe. Your heart thudding in your throat as you made your escape.

At least, you _were_. You were literally running for your life until one of those wide dark and light glowing purple cables slammed the door closed the second you tried to open it. You trembled as you slowly turned around and looked to the blank-faced creature. That damn song from earlier was mocking you now, you swore it was as it played in your mind still.

_I try to call you every day_  
_I’m rehearsing what I say when the truth comes out [of my very own mouth]_  
_I’ve been working on a unified theory_  
_**If** I make it through tonight, everybody’s gonna hear me out_  
_’Cause I’m the right one_  
_On my touch-tone, touch-tone telephone_  
_I’m the only one, hey!_  
_On your A.M., A.M. radio_

Except this time it really was an if you made it through tonight. Your knees felt weak as you stared up at the faceless being. It adjusted how it was crouched in the low hallway, and you sure couldn’t run past it since.. well it clearly took up the entire hallway. Infact, how the fuck did it even get here so silently? 

You jumped back as it held out its hand after pointing to you. You give it a look of confusion [and also of ‘why the fuck haven’t you killed me yet’?] before an image of you holding the camera appeared on the blank ‘face’.  
Specifically, a zoom in of your camera.

Hell no. You went through all that effort and trauma of seeing a dead body that you haven’t even had time to react properly to yet. You _needed_ this goddamn camera and you were damned to be a laughingstock. You’d rather get pulled apart limb by limb [not really] instead of giving this thing your evidence. So you lunged to his right, at the most human fitting space so you could try and run, hoping you somehow caught the robot off guard.

Nope. You were wrong. You were wrong the second you heard the screech of metal, an odd crunching noise, and the worst pain you’d ever felt yet. Screaming, you scrambled out with your hand and camera. Flailing forth as thought to crawl away from the pain. Yet you cried out as you were lifted up, hearing more crunching but it was from the plastic cartridges of film and S.D cards in your backpack.  
Oh woop-de-fucking-do. You might as well had went out to the road and paid someone to run you over.

You were sobbing as the robot held you up in front of your face. One of the cables reaching up and yanking the camera out of your hand. Feebly, you tried to snatch it back.  
“N-No- No, no, no! I- Nnno- I need that!” your pain-and-panic filled mind roiled between trying to escape and trying to get your camera. You needed it! It was your only thing and you already said no turning back from this! You watched as it brought your camera down and crushed it with another crunch. Your heart froze as you stared at the dropped remnants of crushed plastic, metal, and other parts. 

Your hopes and dreams, literally, were crushed with that camera. You went limp, staring down, trying to ignore the sight of your horrible crushed leg. Ignoring the numbing pain and how there was a puddle of blood and how you thought your lower leg was going to fall off at any moment. You were reduced to sobbing as your chest heaved. You looked up to the faceless creature in defeat.

It had the audacity to tilt its head. And it _spoke_. Well, if a ton of different voices mashed into a single voice clip counted.  
“ _MiSsIoN stATUs: COmplETed._.” warbled it. In any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the odd compilation of voices. 

All the same, you shocked with how you were able to even still talk. It was probably the blood loss letting you speak without worry, probably.  
“Wh..what?” your brows pinched together in your confusion. You just wanted to wiggle away from the pain and cry yourself asleep.

Tilting its head the other way, it dropped you.  
Like, full on dropped you from a height of probably five feet. Of course, you screamed and collapsed to the ground. Resigning to curling up in that growing puddle of blood.  
Jesus-fucking-christ on a stick that hurt. Everything hurt. But you got proof. You still had your proof. And if anyone asked about your leg, you were going to make sure everyone knew-

Suddenly, your mind did a 180 to the dead body that was on the news and sites.  
You couldn’t tell anyone or that thing would come for _you_ next. The more determined side of you grumbled why not do just that and get all the proof you can? At least if anyone found your corpse you’d have the evidence right then and there-  
Oh wait. You might end up a corpse that night

Hiccupping, you hugged yourself as you began to cry again. Your sobs relieving into new panic as you heard sirens outside.  
Fuck, either way you’re screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Agent Fowler treats you like an adult because reader is terrified of robots considering your leg got crushed by one.  
> That and also a shit ton happens in one day.
> 
> Also sorry if this chapter's wonky, I got a case of the ol' writer's block

You were tired. Exhausted, and your leg hurt from heaven and back. You couldn’t remember what exactly happened to warrant such pain, but as you blinked open your eyes, you realized you were in a hospital. Blinking wearily, you groaned at your agony. Warranting a nurse to rush over to you. 

After getting told you were recovering smoothly, you tried to sit up. Yet as you moved, you gasped at the pain and a sudden lack of sensation. You turn your attention away from the nurse trying to help you as you move your right foot. Okay. That was good, it ached a little, but the movement was good.

It was your left leg. Or really, the lack of. You trembled as you looked up to the nervous nurse. From her blue eyes to her raven black hair. You tried to formulate the words to ask about what happened to your leg, but all that came out was mumbled whining as tears blurred your vision. You were scared, terrified even as she tried to explain that she didn’t know.

“Ms. Darby, I have to speak to the patient alone.” a gruff and tired voice barked. Ms. Darby turned, her nervous and gentle expression turning stern.   
“Well I refuse to let someone in my care hurt. I have things I need to help and clearly their memory-”  
“ _Ms. Darby_.” his voice grew stern as a black man stepped through the doorway. His voice was clearly one that told ‘no bullshit allowed’.

With a stern glare of her own, Ms. Darby looked to you, told you she’d be right back, and showed herself out. Now, you were left to nervously look to the newcomer as he regarded you with a, least to say, peeved look. You then noticed he was holding a briefcase. You couldn’t think of anyone that’d-

Oh.

_Oh._

You were in some deep shit. Like, shit deeper than the Mariana Trench. So deep that it might as well be a whole new kind of word. Some of your memories of that night wiggled through of how you broke into a high security facility and- Now your mind was planning how you were going to go to jail and _die_ because you were an idiot to even think of fucking with the government as it clicked into place who was taking down all of your online evidence. It wasn’t trolls. It really was the government. 

“My name is Agent Fowler, and I think you can explain what these are.” there was no question in his voice as he opened the case and proceeded to basically dump the stacks of photos onto your lap. Some of them crushed.  
“I..I can-”  
“Kid, you were messing with some highly classified shit.” he growled. Holding up a photo of a surprised looking yellow-and black humanoid. It was low quality, but no one said you made enough money to get a good camera.  
“I-I’m sorry- I didn’t-”

Then he held up a photo. It looked heavily glitched and blurred. It was an image of the hulking purple figure and then, in the farthest corner by the doorway, was you in the middle of yeeting a baseball bat.   
Your stomach sunk as you realize that, yes while your hopes and dreams of seeing one of those things up close was real, your missing leg and fragmented memory placed the puzzle pieces together.

“I’ll just take your silence for a ‘no’ and ask you what in Lady Liberty’s name did you sneak into there for?” his voice was a low rumble.  
“I wanted.. I wanted proof.” the man pulled a confused look before facepalming. He even pulled out a frustrated sigh as though he was dealing with an annoying kid.  
“Proof. Proof for what?” he pulled away his hand in an exaggerated manner with a look that said ‘I need a coffee or _something_. 

Of course, you hesitate. Everywhere except online [and even then, less so than others], your theories weren’t exactly.. appreciated. Frowning, you look to your legs. To the pictures. To what your livelihood used to be. And soon, quietly, you spoke.  
“I wanted proof of.. aliens taking over the world.” Agent Flower scoffed as you said this before snatching up some papers from under the photos. 

“This says otherwise. Specifically how you thought they’re sentient _robot_ aliens.” his voice dropped to a near hiss. You were at a loss for words. You didn’t have any sort of alibi or explanation. You had thoroughly and royally fucked yourself.  
“Listen, here,” as if, you were listening and you didn’t have anything besides your occasional whine of uncomfortable and pain “You’re going to recover in this hospital, then _you_ are going to come with me, understand?”

You looked up to Agent Fowler with what could be summed up as a pretty damn pitiful look. Crappy puppy eyes and all.   
“Yes.. yes sir.” you whisper. Agent Flower gives a curt nod before he takes your evidence away, packs it back up, and leaves.   
You lean back, staring at the ceiling and responding when you needed to to the nurse. You didn’t have much to say. You couldn’t sum up what to say. 

 

 

Recovering without the lower half of your leg was.. difficult to say the least. But you learn, or at least did your best. You were surprised, and found it suspicious, to find out that someone had purchased you a good prosthetic. One of the more high up ones that were reliable. Not that you didn’t know much at all about them. But it was certainly better than praying for your cheap insurance to help you. 

The main part was dealing with a few months in the hospital. The months spent were spent to not only recover from your leg being so broken at the knee it had to be amputated [so that had to heal], but also for physical therapy and, in your own time, accepting the fact that you got your leg crushed by a robot alien and you couldn’t tell anyone about it.  
So, besides struggling to accept half of your leg was fake, dealing with phantom pains, and the trepidation of where Agent Fowler would take you after your cleared, you figured you were dealing with it pretty good.

Until one of the nurses told you a few days later how you were going to be let out any day now. Your stomach dropped as you couldn’t bother to ask, to double check if you were sure everything was checking out. You felt better, that’s for sure, but all the same you didn’t feel right.   
On the day you were cleared, you were surprised that you weren’t being escorted out by cliche movie bodyguards, but that you merely waltzed [not really, you were shakily walking with the help of a crutch and your prosthetic, you look around.

At least, until you hear honking and look to Agent Fowler casually sitting in a dark green SUV. You glanced back at the hospital. Sure, you were partially glad to actually be leaving there, but you dreaded where you were going. With a deep breath, you make your way over to Agent Fowler and look in through the open window. He sends you a deadpanned look before huffing for you to get in.

You comply, getting into the green vehicle after as mall struggle with your crutch. Sitting in the passenger seat, you look from your lap to outside in the rolling desert, to back to your lap. The drive being long and silent. That was until your extreme observation of the fabric of your pants and discomfort at the silence was interrupted with the sudden jolt of the vehicle going off the road. You yelped at the surprise.

“Sorry!”  
You look to Fowler, surprised he’d even apologize. You wouldn’t expect some government agent to apologize for sudden off-roading. Though, you couldn’t help but notice he looked a mixture of sheepish and nervous, and that the voice was.. different, you couldn’t place how but it was.. You two exchanged a glimpse before he said another thing to surprise you.  
“I suggest you don’t piss your pants any time soon.”

“Wha-” you were cut off as you looked ahead, seeing the vehicle you were in drive straight for a solid rock wall. You gave a shriek and closed your eyes..  
Only for your oncoming death to not come. Blinking slowly, you found the light of day replaced with fluorescent ones. Looking to Agent Fowler, you saw how he was just getting out, with another statement to not overreact. Overreact? As if. There was not much to overreact to. You thought this as you took out your crutch and began to turn around to see what some suspicious sounding thuds were all about.

At least, only for your heart to freeze over. You were staring at what looked to be some weird base, but instead a massive metal foot.  
A big metal foot connecting to a big red and blue- You looked up. You were looking at a pair of blue eyes on a big metal _alien robot_.

With what could be summed up as a scream of raw, undocumented terror, you tried to back away only to fumble. Your body, in the panic, had apparently forgotten that your leg wasn’t entirely whole. So all you achieved was falling down and scrambled back, shoving yourself with your hands and your good leg.

You were struggling to say something, anything, when you just hear a frustrated sigh and something along the lines of ‘I should’ve expected that.’. Your stare wholly fixed on the tallest robot you’ve ever seen.  
“I did not mean to frighten you.” you were stunned. Entirely stunned and even ignored how Agent Fowler walked over to you to try and nudge you up. 

“I- What the fuck- I don’t want to fucking die!” you yelled. Of course, that made sense. Those robots were probably the governments and you tied yourself into some secret war between the U.S.A and whoever was messing with the U.S.A. And now, because you were leaking secrets on the web and found with dead bodies near you, you were going to be-

Your thoughts was interrupted with a high pitched whistling turning to low buzzing. Your wide eyes turned to a familiar yellow and black figure. You hated to repeat yourself but..  
 _Oh._   
Agent Fowler took you to them.  
And they were in your town the entire time.

You realized your face had gone slack with the realization. You pretty much just clocked out right then and there as you stared dully at the tallest of the robots and the red-and white-one. You didn’t, you _couldn’t_ pay attention to the talking as the red-and-white robot leaned down with a confused expression. 

You only snapped out of it as Fowler’s hand waved in front of your face, flinching back, you winced as he barked for you to get up. Shakily you did. Staring at the creatures as a cornered rat would.   
“Listen, cut the whole dying shit.” the agent grumbled towards you with a bit of an annoyed edge. He was pinching the bridge of his nose as he gestured towards the two robots.  
“You’re not going to be murdered by them, or the government, so cut that too.” the gaze he gave you was stern as you slouched your shoulders and hunched down.

“This here is Team Prime. You will not talk about Team Prime. Team Prime doesn’t exist. These guys here are to make sure the Earth doesn’t get destroyed by Decepticons. Now that that’s out of the way, I-” he stopped his tirade to take out a phone, huff, and talk onto it. Walking a small distance away so that you looked from his back to the giant robots, or ‘Team Prime’.   
“Well Founding Father’s damn it all.” he growled, shoving the phone to his pocket. 

Looking up to the tallest of the robots, Agent Fowler jutted his thumb towards you.  
“Prime, your team will be alright informing this one right?” The tallest gave a slow nod.  
“I assure you that it will be no trouble.” nodding in return, Agent Fowler began to walk towards the long highway-like hall he had driven through.  
“Can you bridge me out, Ratchet?” he called back. An affirmative from Ratchet as you did your best to keep an eye on Agent Fowler and Ratchet. 

Either way, you missed the spectacle of Fowler actually leaving, only snapping your head back just as the sudden bright light disappeared and “Hey, wait!” dying on your lips.  
You were alone.  
With big ass robots.

Your legs- well, _leg_ felt weak as you stare up at the robots. You felt you couldn’t breath right as the red-and-white robot grumbled with a huff and turned to some sort of work station. It seemed the tallest was about to say something before the shorter interrupted with.  
“Bulkhead’s already done ran off to pick up Miko.”   
Miko? You blinked as you swore the red and blue one looked amused.

Looking down at you, you winced at the gesture ‘Prime’ [you assumed that was his name from what Fowler said] made before realizing he was gesturing to a tall ladder leading to a platform.  
You hesitated, you’ve.. never really [as if at all] climbed a ladder with a prosthetic leg. So you shook your head no and shuffled back.

“As Agent Fowler has told you, we are the Autobots. I-”  
“You guys… you guys aren’t the ones that tried to murder me?” now that the shock was [mostly] passing, you watched as Prime frowned. All the same, you looked to Ratchet as he gave an angry sounding huff.  
“No. The one that attacked you was a high ranking Decepticon named Soundwave.”  
“Oh..”

You glanced down, before looking back up to Optimus as he explained what the Autobots were. That his name was Optimus Prime, not just Prime, and that the Decepticons were a dangerous foe they had been battling for a long time.  
But also the fact that, apparently there were even _more_ to the team, three of them were the guardians of three human children.  
Of course they were.

In fact, if you didn’t have your leg crushed by Soundwave, you’d certainly find children being friends with these guys absurd and.. pretty odd.. and maybe even pretty cool.  
But you did have your leg crushed by Soundwave when you realized that maybe you shouldn’t be hanging out with ‘good’ robots and should be heading home and getting some semblance of your life back.

“Is there any way I can get home?” you asked after an hour of silence. You were pretty dedicated to staying quiet, but upon seeing the robots actually not killing you, it was more comforting.  
Not that you were going to not call them robots. They called themselves Cybertronians, but you were stubborn in that aspect.

Optimus Prime and Ratchet, who were already working once more, looked to you. You began to shrink down under the robot’s gaze before Optimus looked to Ratchet, and before he even began to speak, the smaller of the two scoffed.  
“Optimus, you know I’m busy, I can’t just-”  
“Ratchet,” you couldn’t tell what was going on in the small period of silence before the smaller robot gave a grumbling sigh “A drive would help.”

With what could be summed up as a disgruntled look, you watched in fascination as Ratchet gestured you over and turned into an ambulance.  
Holy shit.  
That’s how they get away.  
“If you can stop looking like you’re about to scream and get in, that would be welcomed.” barked Ratchet’s voice. You give a deer-in-headlights stare for another moment before stumbling your way over and getting into the nearest seat, which happened to be the driver’s. 

Upon leaving their base, getting off of the bumpy dirt ground, and onto the road, you fiddled with your hands and stared out of the window.   
Neither party spoke as the ambulance drove you silently home. Yet all the same you couldn’t ignore the dark green suv parked in front of one house. Or the yellow and black striped camaro in the other. They were familiar, especially that dark green SUV. Frowning, you assumed that they were part of ‘Team Prime’ as they were called.

Yet all the same, you or Ratchet didn’t even say see you later or anything whenever you got out and stiffly walked your way inside, ignoring how he all but peeled out of the neighborhood and drove off to who knows where.

Already planning to sleep the day and night away, you slammed the door closed behind you and give a sigh. Leaning against the door with your eyes closed and listening to a droning hum.  
Wait.  
Droning hum?  
You open your eyes, beholding a bird like contraption that had somehow broken into your home.  
“Goddammit!” you shrieked.


End file.
